Just This Once
by diAngelo57
Summary: "Please, Seneca. I don't think I could ever go back there; there are too many people I've lost that I've loved. Please, take me home." "Very well. Just this once."
1. Chapter 1

**Hello people. Okay, so this is my first ever one-shot, so please don't kill me if it sucks :P And for you Katniss x Seneca haters, get the heck out, because I don't want to hear anything like 'ewww, that's gross!' or 'they're like, 10 years apart!'. Just enjoy it if you're a fellow fangirl/fanboy, and don't read it if you're a peasent/hater ;)**

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Seneca's overgrown beard sparkled with little, translucent orbs of water. He stroked my hair softly, and hesitantly leaned forward before planting little kisses on my forehead. A soft smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I closed my eyes in bliss. His woodsy scent made my heart race, and I leaned up against him, closing the cold, empty space between us.

"You need to shave," I murmured, stroking his beard where the normal curves and swirls should have been. "I know," Seneca smiled, flashing his perfectly white and aligned teeth. Rain trickled down both of our faces, soaking our hair. His electric blue eyes met my own hazel ones, and something deep and emotional passed silently between us. Within moments, we simultaneously wrapped ourselves around each other in a tight embrace.

I could feel his heart beating through his navy blue shirt. "This is wrong," I whispered, burrowing my face into his neck. "How could it be wrong?" Seneca asked gently. "Our age gap. It's too big. We'd be shunned if anyone found out," I said. He adjusted his arms around me, slipping them down to the small of my back. "We'll find a way," he silenced me before I could do anything, once again pressing his lips to mine.

From the back of my throat came a squeak of surprise, but I recovered quickly and pulled his face closer to mine, burying my hands in his jet black hair. The kiss was long and passionate, and even though we were both getting soaked to the bone in rain, we remained that way.

When I finally pulled away, I looked into his eyes and saw everything I'd hoped for: love, gentleness, and trust. I huddled up against his strong form, shivering from the cold. "Take me home with you," I whispered, looking desperately up at him. Seneca raised an eyebrow. "Just for one night!" I begged. "I-I just don't feel safe going back to my own, and I know that you'll be there the entire time."

Seneca hesitated. "Just for one night," he said slowly. "I wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable because I have only one bed, and I wouldn't want you to think that I'd take advantage of you..," "You never make me feel uncomfortable! And I know you'd never try to take advantage of me!" I interrupted, snuggling closer. He smiled, a warm and loving smile that made me want to melt. "Okay. Just one night."


	2. Story Update

Hello, guys. Since I've actually gotten reviews on this story, I've decided to continue it :) Just wanted to let you guys know. More of the story will be up very soon, I promise, once I get my iPod charged up again and I'm able to email it to myself. Though I highly doubt the people who followed/favorited this story will even read the update 'cause I've been gone so long...


	3. Chapter 2

**So here's the update after months and months of hope :P **

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The rain continued to pound outside when we reached Seneca's apartment. The peacekeepers outside the building crossed their weapons across the doors, eyeing me coldly. "Stand aside. She's no threat," Seneca glared at them, and they averted their eyes.

"Yes, Gamemaker Crane."

His apartment was surprisingly warm and cozy, not something I was expecting from a man who spent his time designing death traps for children. Though it was obviously Capitolistic, it seemed much less outrageous than most of what I had seen there so far. While he was busy 'cleaning' his room, having insisted that it was filthy and that I shouldn't have to see it in such a state, I admired several paintings hung on his walls.

One in particular caught my eye; a smaller canvas than the others, with a lot of mixes of greens, blacks, and blues. It showed some sort of forest that had hundreds of pointy, green, needle-like trees stretching far into a mountain range. _Peeta. _I knew instantly that this masterpiece was his. I shook off any sadness before it could reach the surface of me.

"Ah, that's one of my favorites." Seneca poked his head out from his doorway frame. "What are those things?" I asked childishly, pointing to the green citadels that loomed far above the ground. He laughed. "Those are pine trees. I would have thought that you would be familiar with them, being a hunting girl and all."

I shook my head. I've never seen those type before. What district are they from?" "I think either 7 or 2, I can't remember." Seneca ran a hand through his waterlogged hair. "Anyways, you must be freezing, after standing out there in the rain. Do you want to take a shower or something? Maybe I can get you a hot towel?" He turned to me, concern written all over his unkempt face.

"A shower, I think, then bed. I'm exhausted," I sighed, unbraiding my hair from its usual place down my back. "Can you show me to the washroom?"

Seneca led me around the corner to the bathroom and instructed me on how to use all the nozzles and buttons, and how to switch it from hot to cold. "Just yell if you need a towel or a fresh change of clothes and an Avox will get you one," he said. I looked at him in horror. "You have them here too?! You're sick!" I yelled at him. Seneca barely had time to register a face of surprise and realization before I shoved him out the door. I stormed over to the shower and slammed random buttons, waiting for it to heat up. My temper was flared after a long, exhausting, and scary day; Seneca's comment did nothing to improve it.

I stripped myself of all clothing fairly quickly, and stepped into the hot water, barely noticing its scalding temperature. I stood there for a minute, too amazed and enraged to do anything, before the burning water on contact with my skin finally connected to my brain. I howled in pain and pressed a blue button, turning the water a couple degrees cooler. I huffed and pushed the nearest shampoo button. Blue gel squirted out of the nozzle and into the palm of my hand. I massaged it into my scalp thoroughly and let it sit for a moment or two before quickly rinsing it. As the soap bubbles were washed away, I noticed the strong, musky smell it carried. I inhaled a deeper breath. Men's shampoo. Oops.

I took a few more minutes to finish rinsing my hair and condition it, this time with women's moisturizer. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a small, fluffy towel around myself. My skin was bright pink from the strength of the shower head, and slightly wrinkled from taking so long. I looked over to the counter and spied a neatly folded change of clothes. Great. So Seneca did send an Axox in.

I slowly dried my body and hair, then left the towel hung over the shower doors. I changed into the warm, silky clothes, grateful to be dry, and began to comb out my hair with a small brush. There was a knock on the door. "Yes?" I said, slightly irritated. Seneca peeked his head in, his blue eyes pouting. I rolled my eyes. "What?"

"Are you still mad?" he asked, sounding like a child. I ran the brush through a knot in my hair, not meeting his eyes. "Yes, I'm mad that you use Avox girls. I thought you were different than other Capitolists."

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I–I guess I didn't know any better. I was raised this way, to not feel anything but normality about the Games and our...customs." Seneca looked away.

"I guess it just amazes me that you, a man who I thought was different from the rest, can look at murder, prostitution, torture, and gluttony without a second thought." I set the brush down beside me and looked him in the eye. "I thought you were better than that."

He paused for a moment, matching my stare with a piercing one of his own, before shaking his head. "You thought wrong. I'm no different." He looked at the mirror in disgust. "Look at me, a man with no soul."

I was stunned to hear him talk that way, and I tenderly reached out and touched his cheek with my hand. I gently turned his face towards mine and ran my other hand through his silky black hair.

"I guess we both have to adapt to each others way of life." I kissed him tenderly on the lips. "And I'm sorry for getting so worked up."

Seneca leaned in close, and I could see unshed tears glistening in his eyes. It then hit me how much he hated seeing me sad, or angry, or in pain. "You're something, you know that?" he said, before returning a kiss that sent shock waves down my body.

We ended up dropping the conversation and just, well, snogging. I could sense Seneca's restraint all the while, fighting back the urge to take it to the next level. Finally, I had to stop to take a breath, panting. "I have to admire your self-control," I snickered, looking up at him. "What do you mean?" Seneca's face flushed.

"Oh, come on. You know any man would have difficulty restraining himself in a situation like that."

I laughed at his expression. "Let's just...go to bed or something," he grumbled, turning his face away so I couldn't see him blushing. "Ha! You're not denying it!" I laughed. "Is little Gamemaker Crane turned on?"

"I'm going to shave now," Seneca ignored me, his face now tomato red, and pulled out an odd blade and gel can from one of the drawers. "What is that thing?" I asked, all teasing gone at the sight of this new wonder.

"It's my razor," he said. The little handheld device had little teeth at one end, like normal razors, and two oddly curved pieces of metal jutting out from the sides. "It looks painful," I winced at the thought of dragging it across my face.

"It doesn't hurt if you're careful," Seneca said, covering his chin, upper lip, and jaw with shaving cream.

He angled it to the left and slowly ran it down the side of his jaw. Black, shaven hairs fell into the sink. Where shaggy facial hair once was sat a shortly trimmed, swirly half-beard.

"I wonder what would happen if you shaved your legs with that thing," I laughed. He smiled through all the gel and repeated the action on the other side of his face and the area above his lips. Finished, he turned on the warm water and washed the extra cream from his face, and rinsed out the sink. I handed him a towel. He dried his face and grinned. I looked back at him. Over the past few weeks I'd grown used to the natural extra scruff surrounding his jaw, and to see it back to its normal Capitol self slightly saddened me.

"Are you okay, Katniss?"

I shook myself from my thoughts. "Yeah, I'm just tired. Can we go to bed?" "Of course. Come on." Seneca led me back down the hall and past the kitchen.

"You're sure you're okay with this?" he asked me, stopping just before we entered his room.

"Sen, I'm fine with it. I've slept in a tree full of trackerjackers, a cave, and under a thorn bush. I think I can handle sleeping in the same bed as a man."

"Okay, just checking."

I pushed past him and into his room. Surprisingly, it wasn't very big, only holding a king size bed, a dresser, nightstand, and a small, plush chair for reading. I finally sank onto the mattress, heaved a great sigh of relief, and curled my knees up to my chest. Pulling the comforter up around me, I relished its warmth before my eyelids began to feel heavy, and before I knew it I was drifting off.

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**Hi guys! I told you I would continue this. Sorry for the long wait. So do you guys like where this is going? **

**- Just to make things easier to understand: this takes place after the Games, assuming Peeta died and Katniss was the only victor.**

**- I kinda based this idea off of Felicity Dream's _Caged Nightingale _:P I hope you dont mind. **

**- President Snow is a huge jerk (as always) and sent Katniss to live in the Capitol so he can keep an eye on her.**


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